


Lovelight

by Abraxas



Series: Grantleigh Manor Redux [2]
Category: To the Manor Born
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Time, Humour, Love, Making Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:30:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abraxas/pseuds/Abraxas
Summary: With their engagement official, Audrey and Richard find that getting to know one another takes many forms. (Otherwise known as a plot-free, lust-fuelled follow-up to 'The Stripe-coated Assassin'.)





	Lovelight

_Grantleigh Manor, 1966_

The sound of leather striking willow was entirely in keeping with the balmy air of the summer’s day, as were the white-clad figures running about the field. But it was one figure, taller than the others, that held Audrey’s attention as she skirted the edge of the make-shift cricket ground. Her path brought her to Brigadier Lemington, who was watching the proceedings with a critical eye.

‘Has the makings of a decent all-rounder, your young fella,’ he told Audrey, once they had exchanged greetings. ‘Bowls like an Australian. Extraordinary. Soon lick him into shape, though.’

Richard DeVere, Audrey would have to admit, was not the most elegant of players. But cricket as played on the streets of the East End when he was a child differed greatly from that of the village green. The objective then when batting, he had explained, had been to hit the ball as hard as possible.

‘And when bowling?’ she had asked.

Richard had grinned at her. ‘To hit the batsman as hard as possible.’

That objective seemed still to be to the fore: Audrey sucked in a breath of sympathy as the batsman jerked his head away from a short ball that passed perilously close to his face. Richard held up his hands in an apology that didn’t show in his features.

He may have given up the business world, but there was still a competitive streak in her husband-to-be that she wasn’t entirely sure that she approved of. But it was also one of the things that made up his dynamic personality that she loved so much.

(When the topic of Richard’s competitiveness was raised, he claimed it rather rich from a woman with a competitive streak as wide as a country mile. There followed a week where the couple competed to prove which was the least competitive, and it finally ended in a truce. In private, each thought that the other had lost.)

Audrey sighed. Love managed to be very simple and very complicated at the same time.

And then she saw Richard walking across the field towards her and her brain seemed to jam, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had to think very hard about breathing. He smiled at her and Audrey decided that breathing was wildly overrated, anyway. In his cricket whites, and the orange-and-yellow striped tie doing duty as a belt, he looked more like a casting-director’s idea of a village cricket player than an actual real person.

Except he was real, and he was hers, and sometimes she still couldn’t quite believe it.

His arm slipped around her shoulders, lips brushing her forehead and she leaned into him, savouring his solid warmth.

Brigadier Lemington looked at Richard critically. ‘You have to give the batsman a chance to bat.’

‘Oh? Why?’

The Brigadier’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Why? Well… If you don’t… Well, it’s just not cricket.’

Richard’s lips twitched. ‘Ah. I see.’

The older man nodded, relieved. ‘Knew you’d understand. Sound fella,’ he added, to Audrey, then departed to dispense further advice to the rest of the team.

Richard’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

‘You shouldn’t tease him,’ Audrey said, with an air of reproach.

‘I wasn’t!’

They started towards the manor.

‘I’m still not sure why you joined the cricket team anyway,’ Audrey said. ‘I thought you preferred to watch.’

‘It seemed a fair exchange: I join the team and the Brigadier teaches me how to bowl like an Englishman.’ There was still a trace of laughter in his voice.

Audrey frowned. ‘Aren’t those both favours for the Brigadier?’

‘Yes, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that part.’

She laughed, her head tilting back, and Richard indulged himself in studying her: the sunlight glinting gold in her hair and the elegant line of her slender throat. When she turned her head to him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, he felt his breath catch.

‘Well, while you’re in a compliant mood, you can do something for me.’

‘Anything.’

Her stomach flipped. She made herself speak lightly. ‘I need a hand in the Chinese room.’

He inclined his head. ‘Lead on.’

The manor had undergone changes, even in the space of the few weeks of their engagement. Making good on his stated intention, the roof was well underway to becoming leak-free. Audrey was of the opinion that Richard had rung the roofers before he had even rung his mother with their happy news. What seemed to be a perfect battalion of workmen were in near-permanent residence. Richard’s devotion to restoring Grantleigh sometimes felt like his way of showing his devotion to her.

Their courtship had been back-to-front, she thought: they were getting to know each other only after they had promised to be together forever. Richard had behaved with almost comical decorum ever since (although, there was very little decorous in the way he kissed her), staying at the lodge when he was down at Grantleigh (and cheerfully dismantling the fireplace there to discover the far more beautiful one nestled behind it).

Saying goodnight and watching him make his way down the drive was starting to feel like the most difficult thing she had ever had to do.

The Chinese room lay in one of the quieter recesses of the manor, well away from the clamour of workmen and staff.

‘So, what’s the job?’ Richard asked as Audrey pushed the door open.

‘There are some antique storage boxes in here – I thought they’d do better in your mother’s rooms.’

‘Ah. Very wise. Keep all of the antiques together.’

She flashed him a reproachful look and he laughed. Audrey envied his playful relationship with his mother; he teased her unmercifully but their mutual affection was obvious and effortless in the way that they expressed it. So different from her own relationship with her parents. They had been fond, if somewhat distant, and had always been more interested in getting on with their own lives than being involved in hers.

‘Where are they?’

‘Up there.’

Richard looked at where she was pointing and nodded. ‘You know, I’ve often thought that the only reason that women keep men around is for when they need something to be got down from the high shelf.’

‘I have staff for that,’ she retorted.

He laughed again, and took himself for a wander about the room, stopping to admire the artworks and silk wallpaper. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before… It’s quite lovely.’

‘It is nice,’ Audrey agreed.

‘If a little musty.’ The sash window, always on the stiff side, gave way to his efforts, and sweet warm air streamed into the room. Richard stayed by the window, staring out across the meadows that lay beyond. ‘Quite lovely,’ he said again, softly.

Audrey studied him, the lines of his shoulders, the elegance in his pose; even without seeing his face she knew the faint smile that would be on his lips and the light in his eyes. He loved Grantleigh, she knew. And she loved him for loving it.

She loved him. And she knew everything about him that she needed to; anything else was just an add-on. Audrey crossed the room; raising herself on tiptoe she wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his shoulder.

His hands rested on top of hers. ‘This is nice,’ he said.

They stood still. Audrey closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of him in her arms. ‘Do you remember that day in the barn?’

She felt the breath of laughter vibrate through him.

‘Of course I do. I’m very fond of that barn.’

She smiled, turned her face into the curve of his neck, breathed in his scent. ‘I’d have let you do anything you liked to me.’

‘You had an urgent date with Meals-on-Wheels.’

‘I would have foregone that.’ Her voice was soft.

‘Now you tell me!’ he said in mock exasperation.

Audrey giggled. He took one of her hands, pressed his lips into her palm, the heel of her hand, her wrist.

‘You didn’t press the issue.’

‘Well… Not really my style.’ His breath was warm against her skin. She laced her fingers through his.

‘I know. I knew then that I could trust you completely. With everything.’

He turned to face her then, his arms going around her. And under his steady gaze the words rose easily to her lips. ‘I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.’

His fingers skimmed lightly against her hair. ‘The feeling was entirely mutual.’

She tilted her head towards his, tasted his lips. A soft, tender touch.

When she looked at him again all traces of humour were gone from his face. He was serious, intent, his eyes kindling. And she wondered if he realised just how much she loved him, if he could see it in her eyes the way that she could see it in his. She couldn’t find the words for the strength of her feelings; Richard seemed so much better at that than her, expressing his emotions came more easily. But she would show him; with every kiss and caress and shared breath she would make him feel her love.

She willed her fingers, suddenly thick and clumsy, into obedience as she started working at his shirt buttons, pushing the hard discs through the bindings. Cotton so fine it felt like silk under her hands; she could feel the warmth rising from his skin through it. His hands rested against her back, steady, unmoving. When she reached the last button above his waistband she raised her eyes to him and he took her face in his hands, kissed her, his mouth gentle at first and then more demanding as her lips parted under his.

She pulled the shirt loose, pushed it away from his shoulders. His skin was taut and tanned and gleaming, hard muscle sliding beneath. She ran her hand across his chest, the hair surprisingly soft; she followed its pattern down, fingers trailing along the flat plane of his stomach and then he pulled her to him. His lips against hers and then her cheek, her jawline, the hollow behind her ear, her throat. Desire sharpened, pulsing, pushing her against him.

His fingers found the zip of her dress and she felt the tug, the resistance-

Stuck. The zip was stuck. A moment and then he blew out a breath of frustration. Her face buried in the curve of his neck, Audrey shook with laughter.

A sigh. ‘Go on, turn around,’ he said.

‘It _is _quite stiff,’ she said, consoling.

‘It’s also practically invisible,’ he replied, glaring at the mechanism holding her dress together. ‘Here, you better hold your hair out of the way.’

Obedient in this (if nothing else) Audrey swept her hair over one shoulder while he worked at her uncooperative clothing.

‘So much for my smooth moves,’ he remarked after a moment.

Audrey smiled. ‘I rather like that they’re not too smooth: I’m not sure I’d like the Casanova type.’

‘Hm, just as well under the circumstances,’ he muttered. ‘Ah!’

‘Success?’

‘I feel like Wellington at Waterloo.’

She had another fit of giggles. The zip slid smoothly, slowly down, and her laughter faded, her breath catching for entirely different reasons. Where the zip ended she felt his fingers move the material, for a moment one hand rested flat against the base of her spine and she leaned back into his touch.

‘While I’m here…’

She felt tension release as her bra was unhooked, then his fingers soothing the marks left in her skin. The length of her back was exposed, then her shoulders, she felt him kiss the skin between her shoulder blades, trail up her spine. Every nerve-ending hummed, skin tightening in response to the dance of sweet, warm summer air and the wholly different heat from his body. She gasped slightly when his fingers grazed the underside of her rib cage and then up until his hands supported her breasts, pressing into the sensitive flesh, nails glancing her skin and a hum of pleasure rose in her throat.

Audrey reached back, sliding her arm around his neck, pulled his head to hers and kissed him deeply. She turned in his arms, the softer contours of her body moulding against his lines, pulled back enough that she could kiss his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, all the parts of him she could reach. The loosely-knotted tie around his waist yielded to her; Richard moved her hands before she could get further, lifted her, and she twined herself around him. Her shoes thudded to the ground one after the other. He stepped over her dress discarded on the floor.

The heavy silk cover sighed beneath her as she sank into the soft mattress and-

‘Wait a minute.’ Audrey scrambled to her knees, started to pull at the damask spread. Richard watched her, bemused.

‘Uh, what are you doing?’

‘It’s an antique! It’s very valuable,’ she said, pulling it away from the pillows.

‘Audrey, it’s survived over a hundred years.’

‘Yes, and I’d like it to survive another hundred.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Just what is it you think we’ll be doing?’

‘We won’t be doing anything at this rate,’ Audrey grumbled. Then added over shoulder, ‘You could help, you know.’

Richard grasped the end she had pulled free and heaved it off; it billowed in the air for a moment, then came to rest across the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

‘Anything else?’ he asked politely. ‘I could always roll back the carpets or rearrange the furniture.’

Audrey moved back until she was against the pile of pillows and cushions. ‘Are you going to come over here, or are you just going to complain?’

His eyes wandered over her form, taking in the gentle curves of her breasts and slender waist, the dark gold hair spilling across her shoulders, her long legs elegantly folded. ‘My God, you’re beautiful.’ He said it so softly, dazed awe in his voice.

Audrey smiled slightly, beckoned him closer, watching him as he moved towards her. The bed creaked, dipped under his weight and she felt the flutter of anticipation, electric impatience sparking through her.

‘You do have me at something of a disadvantage,’ he said, indicating his own semi-dressed state.

‘You do wear a lot of clothes,’ Audrey agreed.

She pushed herself up, kneeling behind him while he dealt with the remainder of his clothing and she allowed herself the luxury of losing herself in exploring him, her hands running through his hair, across his shoulders, marvelling at the sleek tautness of his skin, fascinated by the smooth play of muscle beneath.

When he turned to her again she wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him in the same moment he gathered her to him and their lips met, a long slow kiss. His hands playing along her back until he reached her hips, lifted them and she felt the catch of every fibre as he dragged her underwear down her legs.

And then his hands ran up their slender lengths, fingers pressing into the soft flesh behind her knees, the warm weight of them, heavy, on her parted thighs. He caressed her, nails scraping lightly and then upwards and Audrey sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers brushed against her, opened her, slid inside her.

Her eyes had drifted closed, her breath hitching; when she opened them, he was studying her face, a gaze that felt more intimate than the caressing fingers flexing inside her.

‘Richard.’ A sigh more than a word. He kissed her again.

‘Tell me what you want,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘Show me.’

‘This. You.’

He nuzzled into her neck, his tongue taking the dampness from her skin. ‘Show me.’

She hesitated for a moment and then one hand moved to his, fractionally changing the angle and pressure; her back arched, she cried out, her muscles tightening around his fingers and pleasure broke like a wave.

A flush suffused her body, heat like a fire under her skin; and then emptiness, a void opening up, when his fingers slipped out of her.

The release tingled through all of her senses and she craved more; she wanted to touch him, feel him, please him as much as she wanted him to touch her.

‘Richard…’ She reached up to stroke his face. ‘I still want you.’

He moved, settling between her legs and she felt his desire for her seared into her skin. ‘You have me.’ His voice was husky, his breath short. ‘Body, heart and soul.’

His mouth on hers, hungry, and she answered in kind. Audrey passed one hand down between them, her fingers closed around him, the skin velvet warm and he was so deliciously hard.

He sank into her, inch by slow inch, and she felt herself stretch around him. His forehead resting against hers, he murmured her name. Audrey slid her legs against his, cradling his body and when he bucked hard against her the relief was intense.

Audrey clung to him fiercely, losing herself in the ecstasy that flared through her from that pounding rhythm. She grasped his shoulders, fingernails biting into the skin, wrapped her legs around him, taking him deeper. And then his body tensed against hers, muscles shaking and she broke around him, pleasure flooding through, and felt him come deep inside her.

His face was buried in the curve her shoulder and she felt his breath slowing against her damp skin. When he raised his head she brushed the dark hair away from his forehead.

She smiled up at him. ‘I didn’t think you were capable of looking dishevelled.’ He always looked so perfect. He was perfect.

He laughed lightly, breathless. ‘You’re looking rather carelessly abandoned yourself.’ And then kissed her softly. ‘Audrey…’

No-one had ever said her name the way that he did. He started to move and she tightened her hold on him, cradling his head against her breasts.

‘I don’t want to crush you.’ His words were muffled.

‘You’re not,’ she murmured.

It felt wonderful, his weight against her, being able to simply hold him. This was bliss, Audrey thought. The buzzing contentment in each other’s arms after such all-consuming passion.

‘That was wonderful,’ Audrey said after long moments. His hair felt like satin between her fingers.

‘Spectacular.’ He pressed his lips to the hollow between her breasts. ‘You’re magnificent.’

‘Well, I don’t think it was just me,’ she said modestly. She felt the laughter shake through him.

Her fingers trailed idle patterns across his back. The few thoughts she had were hazy and diffuse.

‘Have you had a lot of women?’ She didn’t quite realise that she had asked it out loud.

‘Oh, hundreds. I keep a harem in London.’

‘Oh.’

He was teasing her, she knew that. But still… He was so very handsome. And sexy. And kind, and clever and charming. And he knew his way around a woman’s body- You certainly didn’t learn _that _without practice.

He lifted his head, studied her, and his gaze was lazy and amused. ‘Come here.’

‘I don’t _mind _if it’s a lot…’ she said as he manoeuvred them until he was settled back against the pillows and her head rested on his shoulder.

‘It rather depends,’ he said, ‘on what you mean by a lot. Eighteen-’

‘_That _many?’

He blew out a breath. ‘No, eighteen was how old I was when I had my first proper girlfriend.’

‘Oh, I see. You could have started that sentence better.’

‘You could have let me finish it.’

A pause.

‘Well?’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘She was a couple of years older than me and- Well, she was very … encouraging.’ He paused, thoughtful. ‘I have a lot to thank that woman for. And then there was another girlfriend, and then Anna.’

Audrey curled against him.

‘And n- Oh, then Emma.’

‘She’ll be delighted to know you nearly forgot about her.’

‘No-one likes a snitch,’ he said severely. ‘And now you.’ He stroked her hair. ‘For always.’

Audrey turned her head. ‘Is that it?’

Humour sparked in his dark eyes. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

‘I’m not, I just…’ She watched him, puzzled.

‘I’ve never really been interested in casual. And I’m very faithful.’

She kissed the corners of his mouth.

‘You haven’t asked about me.’

‘Oh, you never ask a lady that.’

‘Do you want to know?’

‘Only if you want to tell me.’

‘There’s not much to tell,’ Audrey said, without regret. There had been few, it had been fun, but it had never been anything like this.

‘As long as you’re not planning on adding to the tally.’ His voice was a low rumble under her ear.

She smiled. ‘I think I can manage that.’

His fingers twined through hers, he raised her hand to his lips.

‘I’ve never been very good at talking about my feelings,’ she said, her voice low.

‘Really? Doesn’t seem like it to me.’

She raised her head, frowning. He didn’t look like he was making fun of her. ‘Oh?’

‘You’ve already said the only things I would ever need to hear.’ She leaned into the caress along her cheek and jaw. ‘“I love you.” “I want you.” Everything else is just-’

‘An add-on,’ she finished.

‘Yes.’

Her hand rested over his heart, felt its steady thrum. ‘I’d do anything for you.’

His dark eyes glowed at her. ‘I don’t have many demands. Just two, really: love me, and be happy.’

‘I do.’ She touched her lips to his. ‘And I am.’

‘Oh well, in that case my work here is done.’ He crossed his arms behind his head.

‘Oh, you think that, do you?’ One corner of her mouth twitched, the deep blue of her eyes sparking brighter. Her hands wandered over him, investigating and he felt her smile against his lips when he caught his breath at her touch.

Her skin felt impossibly soft and he trailed his fingers down her back, felt the weight of her as she rose above him, marvelled at the tenderness in her face as she looked down at him. Richard drank in the sight of her, the way the afternoon sun turned her skin to gold, the way her hair spilled around her shoulders, her slender waist and the swell of her breasts. She was glorious, his goddess, and he would worship her.

She moved again, sinking down, her exquisite tightness surrounding him; her hands braced against his chest, supporting herself, and she bent low to catch his lips with hers. He tangled his fingers through her hair, tasting her sweetness, answering the demand of her mouth.

He sat up to hold her closer to him, felt the gasping breath shake though her; her head fell back exposing her throat and he tasted her skin, followed the planes down to her breasts, smiled at the purring pleasure that broke from her lips.

Her hips rocked slowly against his and he matched her rhythm, losing himself in her, in the feel of her wrapped around him, her skin sliding against his. Her breath was hot against his face, hitching now and their movements quickened, his hands on her hips pulling her harder against him. She sighed his name, her back arching suddenly and she clamped around him fiercely, fire and heat that pulled him with her and his whole body shook with released passion.

Audrey took his face in her hands, tracing the lines as though memorising him by touch. He lay back, pulling her down with him until they lay facing one another.

Shadows of late afternoon were creeping across the floor when they straightened the bedclothes and retrieved their own items of clothing from various places on the floor.

Audrey stood still, once again holding her hair out of way while Richard zipped her dress up.

‘Easier up than down,’ he commented. ‘There’s probably an old Czechoslovakian saying for that.’

She giggled, then sat while he eased on her shoes, carefully positioning the straps around the backs of her ankles. ‘There you are, Cinderella.’

She re-knotted the tie at his waist, pulling the ends firmly.

‘Thank you,’ he said solemnly.

‘You’re welcome.’

They had said little as they moved about the room. Audrey felt strangely boneless, everything within her in a state of flux, and yet she felt _tethered_, something binding her to him, making her aware of his every tiny move, every gesture.

An outsider would have seen two people taking an eternity to complete the simplest of tasks and grinning at each other like idiots.

But there were no outsiders and they floated in their own private bubble of happiness.

‘Without a doubt,’ Richard said as they regained the corridor, ‘my favourite place on the estate.’

They drifted down the corridor, Richard’s arm around her shoulders and-

‘The boxes,’ Audrey said, stopping them both with a jolt.

‘Yes, we absolutely forgot to get those.’

At the door, again, Richard looked at her. ‘Maybe I should just…’

She nodded. ‘Yes, probably best.’

Audrey waited while he went in, watching from the doorway while he retrieved the decorative cases from their temporary home on top of the wardrobe. And marvelled again at the effortless ease of his movements. She looked at her watch. Earlier than she had thought it was. It would still be over an hour before Marjory’s invariable daily tea-time visit and anybody actually started missing them…

Audrey slipped into the room and closed the door firmly behind her.


End file.
